I Should Have Just Sold Them The Eggs
by Lady of Cornwall
Summary: Caroline's POV during the episode entitled The Bully Boys. Starting after the attack and continuing during the aftermath. My first fic in this category. Please read and review.


Disclaimer: This story revolves around the episode of Little House on the Prairie entitled "The Bully Boys" written by B.W Sand fur. I do not own any of the characters or plot.

"Leave me alone! Take your hands off me!" I pushed his hands off my waist and ran in the direction I had come. I'm almost home now and I can still hear their laughter echoing in my ears. The broken egg yolks are dripping down my skirt and leaving a trail behind me, still I dare not stop at the creek to clean myself up. I should have just given them the eggs, even though I know its not the eggs they were interested in. Those Gallenders have been causing a lot of trouble around here lately; many men are getting upset. Men…Charles, oh he mustn't find out, he'll end up doing something rash and get himself in trouble.

"CAROLINE!"

Well speak of the devil, a glance over my shoulder tells me that Charles himself is coming up behind me in the wagon. I've got to get in the house and clean myself up, wash my skirt and flatten my hair; he mustn't know that anything is amiss. Ignoring his cries I run into the house and close the door. I have a few moments to try and regain my composure, it's not enough, he grabs my shoulders as I attempt to poor water into the basin.

"What's the matter?" When I don't respond he spins me around to face him, "Come on now, what's the matter?" He looks me over and takes my skirt in his hands, "what's wrong with your skirt?"

"Oh it's all right Charles," I attempt a weak smile, "I'm just fine." Seeing him causes tears to spring into my eyes, despite my attempts to appear strong.

"You're not just fine, you're crying, what's wrong?" He looks directly into my face, concern shining in his dark eyes.

He can't find out, no good will come of it. "I broke the eggs!" I say, trying to cover everything up but tears are beginning to poor down my cheeks.

"All right, you broke the eggs. You're not this upset over the eggs, what happened?"

I should have known there would be no lying to him; he can read me like an open book.

"It was my fault Charles" I hope to make the incident sound as if it is no big deal, "if I had just sold them the eggs like they wanted me…"

"Them? You mean the Gallenders?" I nod slowly. "It was an accident," I assure him quickly, "a simple accident."

As expected he doesn't calm down, "what happened?" he demands.

"Oh Charles, they stopped me, I didn't know what to do."

"Why didn't you just keep walking?"

"I couldn't…they grabbed me…" I hang my head and burst into a new round of tears. As much as I don't want him to overreact, my frazzled nerves are attracted to his raw male protection.

"The Gallenders put their hands on you?" When my only response is a fresh sob he grabs my head and shakes me a little, "you answer me, they put their hands on you?" I can only cry and stare at him, tears spring into his eyes and he turns and runs out of the house.

"CHARLES!" I cry after him, but he doesn't respond. I begin to scold myself, whatever happens to him will be my fault…I should have told him wild dogs attacked me or something…yes and then he would have went after them and got himself hurt anyway…ah men. I smile slightly in spite of myself.

I poor hot water into a bowl and begin to wash Charles' face. He's back now thank the Lord. Isaiah Edwards found him unconscious in the wagon; he's here too, along with Doc Baker who's tending my foolish husband's wounds.

"I want you to stay in bed, at least until Sunday Charles, you've got three busted ribs here." Doc Baker orders.

"I'd be glad to give you three more to work on Doc." He rasps.

"Don't be silly Charles, you can't go against ruff necks like them without a two by four." Isaiah remarks while drinking some coffee.

I listen to all of this in silence but am glad when someone knocks on the door.

"Reverend Alden, come in."

"Caroline…" says the stout man as he enters the house. "Is he going to be all right?" he asks Doc Baker.

"Reverend…he's hurt but he'll mend." The Doc replies.

"Charles, I'm so sorry this happened."

"I bet it wouldn't have if you hadn't butted in on Sunday." Charles says this without looking at the Reverend who seems taken aback his gruffness. I roll my eyes and keep silent.

"I don't know what you mean…"

"All your soft words, they didn't work on the Gallenders did they."

"Well Charles, faced with violence, they reacted with violence."

"Now hold on" Isaiah said putting down his coffee, "what do you expect Charles to do when a man's wife can't even walk down the street safe from that pair."

At these words the Reverend turns on me, "Now Caroline is there any chance you might have misinterpreted the Gallenders intentions." I can only stare at him in disbelief, could he possibly be suggesting that it was my fault. He may be a man of God, but surly he knows what is on the mind of most men…if not his own. I scold myself once again for such a wicked thought. Before I can reply Charles steps in,

"Come on Reverend, those two are no good, today is just a sample."

"Charles, you cannot fairly judge the Gallenders unless you understand their situation."

"Here we go again, eh Reverend, just like on Sunday, be strong, be charitable, turn the other cheek…" Charles rises and turns his back on the Reverend leaning on the loft ladder.

"Charles, believe me…"

"DON'T START TELLING ME THERE'S GOOD IN ALL PEOPLE!" I watch the two nervously, wishing the whole thing had never taken place.

"I'm sorry Charles, but I cannot condone what you did."

"Then we don't have anything else to talk about, do we reverend?" Charles retreats into our bedroom followed by Isaiah.

There is a few minutes of awkward silence between the Reverend, Doctor and I and then Reverend Alden smiles at me weakly, and says, "it's all right." He pats my arm, as though he thinks it is Charles' yelling at him that is the cause of my distress and nothing at all to do with the ordeal I've been through. He then walks out the door. I can't believe man's self-centeredness, but I decide that maybe it is me who is being self centred. With and exasperated look at Doc Baker, I follow the Reverend outside to smooth the rift over. Honestly, a woman's work is never done.


End file.
